


A Kind Word or Two

by EntreNous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Drinking, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-12
Updated: 2008-11-12
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:57:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntreNous/pseuds/EntreNous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron is spending the holiday mostly by himself in a house full of people. Remus is alone in more ways than Ron realizes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kind Word or Two

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [**remus_ron_slash**](http://remus-ron-slash.livejournal.com/profile) fest, and based on the prompt: _If nothing else works, a total pig-headed unwillingness to look facts in the face will see us through_. (from _Blackadder_ , "Private Plan"). Takes place during the visit to The Burrow for Christmas in HBP.

Ron slouched into the corner of the lounge, stared at the fireplace, and heaved a great sigh.

For all that The Burrow seemed incredibly crowded for the Christmas holidays, he found himself spending an unexpected amount of time alone. He'd thought the twins would hang about, but that hadn't happened. While their mother fretted and baked and their father worked late at the Ministry, Fred and George were busy revisiting their old friends and haunts in Ottery St. Catchpole, sweet-talking Muggle shopgirls and flaunting their ability to use magic anywhere now that they were of age.

Ron's other brothers and his younger sister were just as scarce when it came to conversation (though somehow they managed to lay claim to the bath whenever Ron wanted it, and got all the second-helpings of pudding before Ron could reach for them). Ginny appeared to occupy herself receiving a great many owls from Dean. Fleur and Bill mooned over one another in the gardens. Charlie only gave the occasional Floo call as he was still in Romania. And of course Percy kept away entirely because he was a right prat.

Ron did have Harry come to spend the holidays with them. But with Harry's every thought fixed on Draco Malfoy and his possibly suspicious plans, he wasn't much for an afternoon game of Exploding Snap or late night conspiring to get into Ron's father's supply of Firewhiskey.

After a bit, Ron got a slightly itchy feeling. He shifted and then glanced up to find Bill grinning at him from the doorway. "What?"

"Nothing. Only Fred and George told me this afternoon -- about how Ginny told _them_ a few days past -- how you've been keeping company with a girl from Gryffindor."

"Those two can't keep their mouths shut, can they?" Ron folded his arms across his chest and then unfolded them. He wasn't sure what position to strike, exactly, when confronted with the situation he found himself in with Lavender Brown. Was he supposed to look peevish when someone raised the topic, as though he minded people knowing there was a girl who thought he was all right enough to kiss and grope? Was he supposed to take it in stride and swagger about? Or was he supposed to play it off as unimportant, as though Lavender was one of many girls sighing after him?

"Too bad you didn't invite her back here for the hols," Bill went on.

"It's not like that," Ron answered, a foggy sense of alarm growing at Bill's suggestion. Had Lavender expected him to ask her? No, why would she, because they weren't that sort of -- whatever they were.

"How is it then?"

"Not like it is with you and Fleur, that's for certain."

"Ah, but you never know. Love comes upon you unexpectedly. By Easter your girl might find herself wearing her very own Weasley sweater."

The thought made Ron's stomach roil. He cleared his throat and tried to reorient himself by clutching at the arm of the lounge.

"Anyway," Bill said, suddenly serious, "maybe since you've a sense of what it's like to be apart from someone for the holidays, you can keep an eye out for Remus."

Ron blinked. "Come again?"

"You know. His first Christmas without Sirius, and all that."

"Oh. Yeah." Ron frowned. "Everyone misses Sirius. Harry's not talking about it much, but --"

"No, that's not quite what I meant."

"Well, what did you mean?"

"Harry must have told you what it was like between Remus and Sirius."

"They were mates at school, yeah?"

"You can't be --" Bill paused, staring. "Harry didn't realize? None of you knew?"

"Knew _what_?"

Bill had an odd look on his face, and suddenly it was as though Ron's body caught up before his mind solved the problem. He could feel his ears burn hot and the rest of his face flush as the rush of blood spread to his cheeks.

"What, you mean, they were --" Ron made a frantic gesture in the air. He got hold of himself and shot Bill an anxious look, waiting for contradiction.

But all Bill said was, "I'm surprised Harry didn't realize."

"No! Leastways, Harry never said anything to _me_ , and I -- I guess I never --"

Bill shrugged. "That's not what's important now, I suppose. I'd check in on Remus myself more if I could, but we've all been so busy, working and doing our part for the Order. I can't think it's been easy to infiltrate different werewolf packs at the same time he's been grieving Sirius." He shook his head. "At any rate, I had hoped to speak to him during the hols, but turns out I've enough to focus on with keeping Fleur and Mum from each other's throats. Everyone else seems occupied, but I thought you might spare a kind word or two for Remus."

" 'Course," Ron said in a daze.

Bill stepped closer and clapped him on the shoulder. "Good lad."

 

 

***~*~***

 

 

Christmas Eve night found everyone trying to make it through another one of Celestina Warbeck's warbling performances on the wireless.

At first Ron wasn't sure how he was supposed to offer sympathy to Remus with everyone about. If he spoke to Remus in an undertone during the wireless show his family would be bound to notice and Harry likely to become keen on why Ron was whispering to their former Defence professor.

But for some reason, Harry was focused on talking to Ron's dad that night, not appearing to take notice of Ron at all. The others seemed not to pay him mind either, focused instead on distracting one another from Fleur's evident scorn for the programme.

Ron leaned forward in his chair, and then leaned back. The problem was getting hold of Remus, to say something like, "There, there," in a gruff voice, or perhaps, "Tough luck then, mate," in a low tone when everyone else was looking the other way. Then he would clap Remus on the shoulder, same as Bill had done to him, and even if Remus remained mystified as to why Ron was offering sympathy, maybe he would feel a bit better about his lot.

It was all to Ron's plan that Remus remain mystified, actually. Ron didn't want to spend much time thinking about the reason he'd agreed to give condolences and reassurance to Remus, because that would require thinking back to various times he'd seen Remus and Sirius together, and wondering, _Were they really doing_ it _all that time_?

Or worse yet, thinking about what _it_ entailed when it was two blokes involved.

No, he didn't want to think about that. Nor did he want to talk about it. Ron shifted in his seat, feeling his face grow hot. Best keep his expressions of camaraderie brief and seemingly random. If Remus was helped by anything he said, and he remained none the wiser as to Ron's awareness of what he'd got up to with Sirius, so much the better.

Trouble was, even with Harry rattling on to Ron's dad about Malfoy (without overhearing, Ron could tell the topic of conversation, for Harry wore his Malfoy Face), Ron couldn't get Remus to notice him.

Remus sat giving the fire glum, plaintive stares, as if even the bright flames were failing to provide him with any cheer. If circumstances were different, Ron could change seats to edge a bit closer to Remus, or be more deliberate catching his eye.

But if anyone asked why he was after a conversation with Remus, what would he say? That he wanted to make him feel better on account of losing his boyfriend, or lover, or whatever it was a man called another man he was -- and _Merlin's ghost_ , that summer in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place when Ron walked in and the two of them had been sniggering together, Remus's hand rubbing Sirius's shoulder, had they just been up to something in the pantry?

Ron crossed and uncrossed his legs. He glanced over at Remus and felt his neck flush once more. Though he immediately looked away after, he caught Ginny giving him a curious look. Quickly he darted his eyes back to his original target, but no, he couldn't look at Remus, could he, not when he didn't want to think about why Remus needed comforting, and definitely not when he needed to distract anyone like Ginny from asking nosy questions. Instead he shifted his gaze to the scene behind Remus, Bill trying to shush Fleur from making fun of Mum's favourite singer.

It worked, at least as far as Ginny was concerned. As they all got ready to troop off to bed, she muttered, "Can't keep your eyes off Phlegm, can you?"

Ron was about to protest when he realized that's what he wanted people to think. "That's right," he retorted in a low voice. "What business is it of yours if I look at Phlegm, er, Fleur, anyway?"

"Don't you have a girlfriend already? I seem to see your tongue down her throat often enough."

"That has nothing to do with who I do or don't look at. What are you doing spying on me in the common room or here at the Burrow, is what I'd like to know. Are you so bored with Dean you have to stare at other people snogging to pass the time?"

As Ginny flounced off in a huff, Ron saw that Remus had his eyes on him. Maybe he'd noticed Ron and Ginny having it out. Could be this was his chance to say something to Remus. But then Harry was at Remus's side, so Ron obviously couldn't speak to Remus right then. It would be a bit awkward, wouldn't it, if he said something and later Harry asked questions. Perhaps neither Remus nor Sirius had wanted Harry to know about them. And in that case, it wouldn't be Ron to give the game away.

Ron hesitated, giving a nervous laugh. When his father gave him an inquiring look, he sighed and crept towards the stairs. Everyone was trudging to their various rooms anyway, with Remus most likely preparing to follow. Now wouldn't be a good time to strike up a conversation with him.

Besides, Remus probably hadn't been meaning to look at him just then anyway. After all, Remus had kept his eyes on the hearth or Harry the entire evening. No one had paid any attention to Ron that night except Ginny. Why would Remus be any different?

Then again, Ron remembered sometimes Remus appeared oblivious to his surroundings, like that first time they encountered him on the Hogwarts Express, when really he was taking in everything.

Ron climbed the stairs and tried not to puzzle over whether Remus Lupin noticed him at all.

***~*~***

That night he pretended instant sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

It took forever for Harry to settle down; he was turning pages and getting up and down from his bed for a while before Ron finally heard the soft, even breathing of sleep.

After waiting a moment more to make certain his coast was clear, Ron eased out of bed and went down the stairs towards the twins' room. Since Bill was bunking there, maybe Ron could catch him before he went to sleep and explain how he'd completely failed at getting Remus on his own. Bill would just have to make certain himself that Remus was all right tomorrow. That would be best for all of them, because how well did Ron know Remus, anyway? Bill, though, was a friend to Remus, or something nearly like one.

Behind the door, however, all was silent. That seemed unusual for the twins, with or without Bill to join them; he couldn't remember a time when regular explosions or loud, merry banter hadn't come from their shared space. Then again, they were all of age, Bill and Fred and George, so they could be using some sort of muffling spells to conceal ruckus or conversation.

Ron curled his right hand into a fist, poised to knock or even bang the door in frustration. If he were seventeen already, he could try to undo whatever was keeping him from hearing the three inside, but he wouldn't be of age for a few months more.

All in all, it was turning out to be a rubbish sort of holiday.

He spun about and stomped down the stairs. Maybe Harry was too intent on Slytherin conspiracies to do much of anything with Ron, and maybe the twins were too busy chatting up girls in town and taunting Ron about Lavender to get up to mischief with him. But there was nothing to keep Ron from breaking into his father's Firewhiskey on his own.

When he got to the kitchen, however, he stepped back in surprise to find Remus Lupin at the table, a bottle of Firewhiskey and a glass in front of him.

"Oh, hullo," Remus said warmly.

Ron gave a nod. He ought to leave right then, he knew. Really, it would have been easy to give Remus a kind word with others around, and then slip back into the crowd. But with the two of them alone and face-to-face, it would probably seem mental to croak out, "There, there," and flee.

Clearly his best plan was to leave at once.

Instead he turned to find a glass.

"Sure you're old enough to be joining me in this?"

Ron yanked the chair out. "I'm nearly seventeen!"

"Ah." Remus looked about to protest, but after a moment, he reached out and slid the bottle across to Ron.

"Thanks."

For a moment, they drank companionably. Well, Remus drank while Ron choked on his first gulp of Firewhiskey. Ron patted his throat quick time, a bit alarmed at the burning sensation and the way the liquid had made him pant, but eventually gasped his way back to normal breathing.

"Hits rather hard the first go," Remus said in a philosophical tone.

"I've had Firewhiskey before. Plenty of times."

"Oh, of course; I was speaking generally." Remus re-filled his glass, smiling at the table for some reason.

When Ron managed to choke down the rest of his drink and grabbed the bottle again, Remus lifted an eyebrow but said nothing. Based on the relaxed look on his face, hardly gloomy at all, Ron guessed perhaps Remus had already had a few drinks on his own.

"Your brothers tell me you're spending lots of time with Lavender Brown."

Ron couldn't stop himself from spraying out the sip he'd just taken. He cursed and wiped his mouth while Remus became very involved examining the bottle's label.

Eventually Remus spoke again. "I remember her from teaching Defence, of course; she seems a very nice girl."

"She's all right."

"Ah. It's that sort of thing, then, is it?" Remus appeared amused. "Well, you're young yet."

"I don't know what sort of thing it is. We get on, I suppose. Not much talking, really. I don't know what she wants of me," Ron confessed.

"I know that feeling." Though Remus's eyes remained warm, his lips pressed together tightly.

"Girls are confusing."

"They certainly can be."

Ron stared at the bottom of his glass. Perhaps now was the time to say something consoling to Remus. The Firewhiskey had changed from scorching his throat to settling into a pleasant burn in his belly. He felt more relaxed drinking with Remus than he had in some time.

"It's more like we both happen to be around each other all the time," Ron went on. In the back of his head, he felt this wasn't the direction he was supposed to steer the conversation to, but he couldn't seem to stop himself talking. "We don't have much to say to one another even when we do have to talk. I mean, her favourite class is Divination, if you can believe it. So when we're together, we just start snogging. I don't -- how else do you get a bit of experience? Because that's what I'm after: experience. But really, I can't think she's -- she must suspect -- I don't think she's even the _type_ of person I would want to be with, if you know what I'm saying."

Remus ran a thumb around the rim of his glass and frowned, not meeting Ron's gaze. "I . . . think perhaps I might know."

"It's like, you're supposed to find a girl and see what it's all about, even if you don't especially want to, because everyone else does. They treat you like a fool if you let on that you haven't."

Remus shot him a wary look. "Yes, I understand you."

"Of course, they treat you like a fool when you finally have found a girl, and laugh when you try to explain it's not like they think." Ron scowled at his glass.

"It is a complicated thing, telling others what it is you really want," Remus said slowly.

Ron propped his elbow on the table and leaned his chin on his fist. "But if you find someone else you _really_ might want, not the one you're with just to be with, you aren't supposed to try things out with them, because you've known them forever and everyone thinks they're supposed to be a friend and nothing more."

Remus cleared his throat. "Have you spoken to Harry about any of this?"

Even in his Firewhiskey-addled brain, that turn of conversation seemed to come from nowhere. "No, not Harry. Why would I? He has enough to do with following after Draco Malfoy all the time."

"Ah. I see." Remus sent him a look so full of sympathy that Ron halted his motion, the glass mid-way to his mouth. Wait, no, he was the one supposed to offer sympathy to Remus, wasn't he? In fact, maybe that's what Remus was after bringing up Harry -- maybe he realized Ron knew about him and Sirius, and wondered if Ron had been stupid enough to blurt out the truth to Harry.

"I wouldn't talk to him about _that_ , anyway," Ron said in a rush. "I mean, not unless you wanted me to. Or if you wanted to speak to him, that would be fine, but you don't have to, not at all."

"If _I_ wanted to speak to him?" Remus seemed taken aback.

"Not that you have to," Ron repeated. "There's no cause for you to speak to him about what I might know, or what you might --" His voice had cracked a bit at the end, so he trailed off. Now he'd done it, hinting at Remus's secret relationship with Sirius. It was the Firewhiskey loosening his tongue and making him too relaxed. Was Remus going to press him about how Ron knew? Because it would be awkward, wouldn't it, to explain how Bill had cornered him and made him speak to Remus?

Remus was studying him intently, and suddenly Ron had a flash of how things might have started between Remus and Sirius, the two of them maybe Ron's age, sitting around a kitchen table like this one, sharing a drink they weren't supposed to have and talking late into the night.

"This wasn't what you were speaking about to Ginny earlier, was it?" Remus appeared unnerved, and Ron answered quickly to clarify.

"Never mind her. She won't say anything, even if she does realize --" He darted his eyes to Remus and then looked away. "Who she thinks I'm staring at is none of her business. The important thing is I wanted to say you're not exactly alone, all right?" Ron started to reach for the bottle once more, but quickly withdrew his hand when he realized it was shaking. Odd, that. He didn't know Firewhiskey gave a person the shakes. "I wanted to talk to you about this all night, but I couldn't get you alone, so I'm saying it now."

Remus drew in a sharp breath. "When you say who you were staring at . . . Ron, I don't think you should be -- and I know _I_ shouldn't be --"

"No, let me finish," Ron went on doggedly. "I know it's hard, and I know what it's like to feel lonely, and I know --"

All of a sudden Remus was right beside him, and when Ron blinked in confusion he saw Remus lean forward and --

Remus Lupin was kissing him.

Oh. _Oh._

Somewhere in between the first moment of utter shock and the moment when Ron began kissing back best he could manage, Ron realized that Remus Lupin was a truly amazing kisser, much, much better than Lavender.

It was the sort of thing Ron ought not to know about _at all_ ; after all, shouldn't he pull back right away if some bloke tried to snog him? He should have been satisfied with Lavender, who let him kiss her anytime he pleased, and seemed very close to letting him put his hand up her shirt. And he was supposed to be comforting Remus with kind words, not groaning as Remus bit and then sucked on his lower lip.

Really, though, it wasn't his fault. What was he supposed to do when he was used to responding whenever someone planted their mouth on his these days? Maybe the only person he had been doing that with had been Lavender, but perhaps that was only because no one else had tried.

But now Remus was trying, and Ron was responding, and hell, Remus really seemed to know what he was about. If Ron was after experience, wouldn't it be a shame to just miss out on an opportunity such as this?

They kissed and kissed until Ron's head swam and his body swayed. What was so different between these kisses and Lavender's? Ron tried to work it out even as he let his head tip back while Remus cradled his jaw in his palms and brushed his lips back and forth in a teasing motion.

Ron sighed into the kiss, parting his lips more, and thought it seemed more controlled on the front of saliva producing. Ron didn't mind spit, really, but he privately thought Lavender shared a bit too much of hers. Remus's kisses were deep and lovely but not too wet. Even so, it felt -- Ron felt --far wilder with Remus's lips meeting his. Of course that could be just as much Ron's level of experience as Lavender's; to be perfectly honest, he hadn't known kisses could be anything like what Remus was sharing with him. Instead of the routine gnawing he and Lavender did, it felt like Remus shaped and deepened each kiss, one after another, into something surprising, hot, and devouring. All Ron could do was try to remain upright and follow along.

Plus the whole tongue thing was _completely_ different in this kiss than in any other he'd yet had, like it actually made sense for their tongues to slip and slide against each other, for Remus's tongue to dart into his mouth and for Ron to suck on it until Remus grunted and yanked him closer. But then it was no use trying to figure any of it out or compare kisses a moment longer, because he was giving a helpless sort of moan and reaching his hands to clasp behind Remus's neck.

They kissed, scraped their chairs against the floor to move closer, and kissed again. Ron lurched forward to find he was tottering, almost about to crash to the ground, but Remus shifted him, pulling him onto his lap.

That was new, maybe too new and weird to keep on with for a moment more, brilliant though the kisses were. Ron lifted his hand to get balance, intending to mumble out an excuse and pull back. Girls sat on boys' laps, not the other way around, and _boys_ certainly weren't supposed to do anything of the sort with each other. But when Ron moved his hand to Remus's chest to steady himself and move away, Remus surged up against his hand as though he liked it there very much. After a second he actually grabbed Ron's wrist, thrusting his hand under his jumper.

Ron opened his mouth in a wide "o" of surprise at the feel of warm skin, which Remus obviously took as an invitation to do more of that tricky, enticing business with his tongue. Then _oh dear god_ , Remus's hand was massaging his thigh, edging towards his groin, and Ron had never, ever been able to get Lavender to touch him there even when he'd begged.

All at once Ron didn't care one bit whether boys or men were supposed to sit on each other's laps; all that mattered was that Remus keep on doing what he'd started.

Ron skimmed Remus's skin with his fingertips once he got a mind to make his hand do something instead of letting it just rest against Remus's chest. Maybe Remus didn't have any of the curves Ron had dreamed about touching, but it was the same principle, wasn't it? So Ron felt about until he found Remus's nipple and dragged the pad of his thumb over it, grinning when he heard Remus gasp at the touch.

He kept on doing that, moving and then flicking his thumb over first one nipple, and then the other, rubbing Remus's chest in between with his other hand joining the first, while Remus's hand kept moving closer until he was really and truly covering Ron's erection with his palm and grasping it.

The chair almost clattered backwards when Ron lifted and rearranged his legs on either side of Remus and the chair, so that they were pushing against each other, hard length against hard length all the more evident through the thin material of Ron's pyjama bottoms. How they did stay upright Ron never knew, but somehow they managed, Ron holding on to Remus for all he was worth, Remus muffling Ron's surprised sounds and shaky breaths with kiss after fantastic kiss while they bucked against one another.

They panted into each other's mouths as they shuddered and finally stopped, both attempting to catch their breath.

"That was --" Remus straightened a bit and looked around wildly as if noticing their surroundings for the first time. "Oh god, Ron. I shouldn't have --"

"That was amazing," Ron interrupted.

Remus stared at him with dazed eyes before laughing helplessly. "I can't believe -- we're in your parents' kitchen."

"Oh. Right." Ron swallowed. "Probably better --"

He swung one leg over, and Remus helped him stand since his legs had gone wobbly on him.

Remus let go of his shoulder and gazed at him a moment, carding his fingers through Ron's hair. When he spoke, his voice was soft and hesitant. "Ron, you should know things are complicated for me right now. Even if circumstances were different --"

"Oh, yeah, 'course. I mean, you've had a tough time of it," Ron put in. He cleared his throat before adding, "There, there."

Remus looked confused.

"That really was amazing," Ron said with a grin.

"It was -- yes, I . . . I agree." Remus grinned back.

"Don't worry about it," Ron said.

Remus gave him a rueful look. "If you ever wanted to speak about things . . ."

"Yeah, all right."

Remus moved to press a kiss against his cheek, and then moved quietly up the stairs.

Ron waited a moment before following, veering off to the bath to have a quick shower. When he sneaked back into his bedroom, Harry was snoring, tangled in a knot of his bedclothes.

He slipped under his quilt and lay on his back staring at the ceiling.

Talking to Remus had worked out much, much better than he had anticipated. There was no doubt in his mind that Remus felt better. He'd certainly looked a good deal better (and rather nice, all rumpled up).

As for him, there was enough Firewhiskey still in his system to keep him from being embarrassed he'd just rubbed off against a former instructor. Really, he thought as he turned on his side, it was just two people alone for the holidays coming together for a moment, exchanging some comfort and kind words.

Add to that, the experience had taught him -- besides how to do some really fantastic things with his tongue -- that there were obviously other people willing to snog him, and do quite a lot more than that, than just Lavender Brown.

Ron closed his eyes, still grinning as he drifted into sleep.

 

 

***~* the end *~***  



End file.
